


Something Beautiful

by acollectionofdaydreams



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Brian and Nigel, Compliant through 3x13 minus the monster getting loose, Eliot as Nigel, Eventual Queliot, Everybody Lives, Fluff, Getting Together, Happy ending because canon can fuck off, M/M, Monster died in Castle Blackspire, Post S3, Quentin as Brian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-15
Updated: 2019-06-15
Packaged: 2020-05-12 01:50:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19219162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acollectionofdaydreams/pseuds/acollectionofdaydreams
Summary: Post s3 au where the Monster died from the god-killing bullet in Castle Blackspire and therefore never possessed Eliot or tracked down Quentin in their new lives that Fogg created for them. As for Nigel, bastard son of a British lord, and Brian, the English professor? Well, they still found each other. This is their story.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title and all lyrics are from Strangers by the Jonas Brothers. I started this fic like right after the season finale but only just now finished it, and the song was a perfect fit.

_I came here looking for another excuse_  
_To run away from something beautiful_  
_It's like it's driving me closer to you_  
_Every step back pulls me right back to you_

 

It all began in a coffee shop. As much as Brian loved his little office tucked away in the back corner of the English department, sometimes it got too stuffy and claustrophobic. On days like those, he found himself at this particular coffee shop two blocks away from the university grading papers or reading for his upcoming lectures. The coffee shop was an open, airy sort of place with all the makings of a millennial Instagram photo. Every corner was filled with leafy plants and succulents, exposed beams, fairy lights, and quirky art pieces. It was a cliche in every sense, but the light hustle and bustle and the constant smell of coffee beans did something to rejuvenate his focus. He was very much a regular patron, to the point that the baristas knew his name and order. 

“Hot white peach tea, for Brian!” 

He maneuvered his way to the counter to see the familiar redhead waiting for him, with her usual wide smile spread across her face. 

“Thanks, Jessica.”

He nodded at her and accepted the drink, turning to go back to his table. 

“You just gonna run off today then?” she drawled in that unmistakable southern accent of hers. 

He wondered, not for the first time, how she ended up working in a very hipster-wannabe Manhattan coffee shop. 

He huffed a laugh to himself and turned back around.

“You look sort of busy, so I just thought,” he trailed off, gesturing around to the admittedly more packed than usual room.

“Never too busy for you, darlin’,” she said with a wink.

“Um,” he stammered, looking down at his cup then back to his computer unattended a few tables away.

She burst into a bright laugh and said, “Take it easy, I’m just messing with you. Why are New Yorkers always so uptight?” She gave a theatrical sigh and continued, “Go back to your computer and do your boring professor stuff, and you let me know if you need a refill!”

“Thanks,” he nodded his head and smiled.

He ambled his way back to his table and shook his head. He knew Jessica meant no harm, but he never quite knew how to respond to anyone flirting with him. She was cute and probably about his age. She had a bubbly personality and gave him free refills, which he was pretty sure was against the rules. If he were the kind of man his mother wanted him to be, he’d have asked her out on a date by now. As things were though, he was the kind of man who sat at the only open table with his laptop and a stack of ungraded midterm papers. He was two papers in when the proximity of the abrupt sound of a chair scraping across the floor grabbed his attention. He lifted his head to see a very tall, well-dressed man unceremoniously fall into the chair at the table to his left. 

The man, by all accounts, looked very out of place. He was wearing a clean-cut, white and cream colored suit complete with a very obviously tailored waistcoat and decorative scarf, and Brian wondered if he’d just come from a job interview or something. Normal people couldn’t just look like that on a Tuesday afternoon. He couldn’t be much older than twenty-five, yet he carried himself with the sophistication of a recently deposed fairytale prince. Brian couldn’t help but watch, mesmerized, as the man folded his long legs under the small table. His dark brown curls fell in his face as he fished a flask out of his pocket. Brian stifled a laugh and looked around as the man, in plain daylight, very obviously spiked his latte. This got the man’s attention, and he fixed a tired gaze on Brian.

“What, you want some for your… what is that exactly?” the man wrinkled his nose.

“It’s tea and, uh, no thank you,” Brian replied.

The man shrugged and said, “Suit yourself.”

Brian regarded the man again before turning back to the paper in front of him. He’d had weirder encounters in New York. It was only a few minutes before he felt the unmistakable sensation of someone watching him. He lifted his cup to his mouth and tried to surreptitiously peek at the table next to him. He straightened when he saw that the man was indeed watching him, his mouth turned up into a smirk.

“Can I help you with something?” Brian asked, a little irritated with the interruption.

“I’m sorry, but have we banged?” the man asked.

Brian choked on his tea and sat it down on the table. The cup, even though Brian could have sworn it was a safe distance from the edge, fell to the floor and shattered. The man handed him a napkin, which Brian graciously accepted. He dabbed at the corners of his mouth and cleared his throat, looking at the mess on the floor which was attracting the attention of several other customers and employees.

“Uh, no, I don’t think so,” Brian said incredulously.

“Huh,” the man replied, letting his eyes wander over Brian from head to toe in a way that made him pull at the bottom of his button-up shirt. “I know I’ve repressed a lot of memories, but you look very familiar and I can’t imagine forgetting a man who can make a sweater vest look sexy.”

Brian felt his face flush. He said, “Thank you, I think?” 

Jessica suddenly appeared at his side with a dishrag and a mop. “Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to settle down over here or you’ll have to leave.”

The man’s eyes shot up at him, but Brian just rolled his eyes.

“Sorry about that, Jess,” he said, “here, let me help you clean up.”

She waved him off, already done with it save for a few pieces. “Don’t be ridiculous, no harm done. I’ll have you a new one out in a few minutes.”

“Can you make it to go?” he asked.

“Sure thing!” she smiled, having finished cleaning and heading back to the kitchen.

Brian looked back to the man across from him and noticed for the first time that he was laughing.

“You are just adorable,” the man laughed. “Also, she totally wants to get in your pants.”

Brian scoffed, “No, she doesn’t. She’s just polite.”

“Mmhmm,” the man said, “Anyway, back to where I know you from.”

A loud shattering sound came from the kitchen, making both of them jump.

“Jesus, your clumsiness must be infectious.”

Brian rolled his eyes in response and asked, “Did you maybe go to NYU?”

“God, no,” the man replied, “though my father would have liked that. NYADA class of 2014. Anyway, my name’s Nigel.”

The man held out his hand, and Brian, for lack of any better idea of what to do, shook it.

“Brian,” he said, “uh, grad student at NYU, part time English professor.”

Nigel shook his hand and fixed him with a genuine smile that reached his eyes.

“Nice to meet you, Brian the English professor.”

Jessica rushed over from the counter with his tea in hand, clearly out of breath. 

“It is a disaster back there, bless their hearts. The cook just dropped like a whole tray of coffee mugs onto the floor. Be glad you’re out here,” she said. 

“Good luck with that,” Brian smiled, “and thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” she said, then turned her gaze over to Nigel as if noticing him for the first time. She looked back at Brian with a knowing grin. “I’ll leave you boys alone then.”

She walked backwards a few paces, just long enough to point at Nigel and mouth, “He’s cute!”

Brian laughed and said, “Bye, Jess.”

Nigel hadn’t taken his eyes off of Brian for the whole exchange. As soon as Brian turned back around to face his laptop, Nigel slid over into the seat directly across from him.

“I know this is crazy, but time is an illusion and I bond quickly,” Nigel said in a rushed tone. “I have this thing tonight, do you want to come?”

Brian raised an eyebrow at him, “What kind of thing?”

“A fellow NYADA classmate is opening in an Off-Broadway production of Les Mis, and they’re going out for drinks after,” Nigel explained. “My date bailed last minute. So, would you like to come?”

Brian wasn’t really known to be the impulsive type. Ever. But there was something about Nigel that he just couldn’t quite place that made him raise his hands and sigh.

“Sure. Why not?” he asked, laughing a little incredulously.

“Great!” Nigel said beaming. He grabbed a napkin and scribbled what seemed to be his number on it before handing it to Brian. He stood up and pushed in his chair.

“I’ll pick you up at 8!” he said excitedly, then started to turn away before stopping mid-step. “Wait, where do you live again?”


	2. Chapter 2

_You say my name like it's been on your lips_  
_Familiar in ways I can't explain_  
_You got a heart that I know I can miss_  
_Hold me like that and pull me right back again_

Brian’s life was quiet and soft around the edges. Not very much happened to him, and he never went out of his way to look for anything to happen to him. He had his classes and his students and his dissertation research. Lather, rinse, repeat. His days were comfortably monotonous in a way that he was perfectly content with. That was, until Nigel. 

Nigel was like a lightning strike on an unsuspecting summer afternoon. He’d shown up and not really left since that first day. He brought Brian coffee in his office while he was grading papers twice that week, which had the other faculty members side-eyeing him in a curious way. If Nigel noticed, he didn’t care though. He just made himself at home in the uncomfortable folding chairs in front of Brian’s desk and did a thorough job of distracting him from getting any work done. He asked a constant stream of questions about Brian’s job and research yet waved off any suggestions Brian made about books he could read if he was interested in knowing more. It should have been annoying, but it really wasn’t. 

He became somewhat of a fixture in Brian’s life, which was surprising because Brian didn’t really have friends. Not to mention, Nigel was so unlike anyone Brian had ever met. He was magnetic and witty and devastatingly handsome. He’d learned pretty much immediately that Nigel was also rich. Very rich. Maybe most shockingly of all, he was practically royal, as he was the son of a literal British lord. Nigel was quick to correct him that he was the _bastard_ son of a British lord, which was why he’d grown up in America with the trust fund his father had used to pay off his American mom to keep his existence out of the British tabloids. Brian’s life as a PhD candidate and part time professor had never felt more dull. He couldn’t understand in the slightest why Nigel would have taken an interest in him. 

Nigel had the aura of someone who would spend his weekends partying with the Kennedy’s in the Hampton’s or something, but he was over at Brian’s apartment more often than not. He’d told Brian that he bonded quickly, and he really hadn’t been joking apparently. The thing was, Brian didn’t bond quickly. He didn’t really bond at all most of the time. Something was different about Nigel though, and he just couldn’t explain it. He was drawn to him, like he’d known him for years instead of only weeks. It was maybe the strangest thing that had ever happened to him. 

They fell into a routine though as the weeks stretched on, and that routine had Nigel artfully draped across Brian’s shitty Ikea sofa while they played Mario Kart on a Saturday night. 

“Goddammit, Bri!” he shouted, as Brian took him out with another red shell. 

Brian smirked and dodged a throw pillow Nigel tried to toss his way without taking his eyes off the screen. It wasn’t the most coordinated throw, and that was likely due to the fact that they were well into their second bottle of the expensive wine Nigel had brought over with him. Nigel dropped his controller on the coffee table and sighed quite dramatically as Brian raced past him and over the finish line. 

“Not even going to finish the race?” Brian asked. 

“There’s no point in going on,” Nigel said, draping his arm over his face not unlike a swooning Victorian housewife. “Your betrayal has wounded me too deeply.” 

Brian exited the game and sat his controller down too. He reached for the bottle sitting between them and poured it carefully as he refilled both their glasses. He leaned back and took a sip, watching as Nigel untangled himself from the sofa to reach for his own glass. 

“Keep pouring me wine, and I might be inclined to forgive you,” he mumbled around the rim of the wine glass. 

“Noted,” Brian said. 

When Nigel settled back into the sofa, he was much closer. His hand came to rest casually on the top of Brian’s thigh as if he wasn’t even paying attention to the location of his limbs, and Brian felt those sparks dance across his skin that he was coming to associate with Nigel’s touch. That was another thing about Nigel. He was a very tactile person, and Brian surprised himself by not minding in the slightest. Brian was sort of having a crisis about how much he didn’t mind. Not a gay crisis, mind you. He’d sorted out his bisexuality a long time ago. He knew he liked boys, but he didn’t usually like boys who he’d barely just met touching him. Like everything else about Nigel, it just felt right though. 

Maybe it was because he was drunk and warm and feeling a little dizzy from the wine, but Brian found himself asking aloud, “Do you ever think it’s weird how it feels like we’ve known each other forever?” 

Nigel hummed and turned his head so that they were facing each other with their heads pressed against the back of the sofa, only inches apart. 

“I’m still half convinced we’ve hooked up before,” he said. 

Brian laughed at what was by now their inside joke and nudged his shoulder. 

“I promise you we haven’t,” he reassured him. “I’m not really the hooking up type.” 

Nigel lifted the hand that was sitting on his thigh and brought it up to Brian’s chest to slowly trace his finger down from his collarbone, stopping to rest at his sternum. Brian shivered, and Nigel’s smirk meant he definitely noticed the effect he was having. 

“Shame,” he said. 

Nigel was often flirty, and when he was drunk, he was very flirty. Brian sort of got the impression that he was just the kind of person who flirted with everyone though, so he didn’t take it personally. But sometimes he did wonder. Like right then, with that look in his eyes. No one had ever looked at Brian like they _wanted_ him before, and it was especially disarming when someone as attractive as Nigel was looking at him like that. He always backed off though when Brian hesitated at his advances, and Brian wondered what would happen if just once, he didn’t hesitate. Would Nigel laugh at him for reading things all wrong when he was just being friendly? Or maybe, a tiny voice in his head whispered, just maybe… 

“Hey, um,” he said. 

Nigel quirked an eyebrow at him and grinned. He said, “Hey.” 

Fuck it, he thought. Before he could overthink it, Brian lunged across the inches between them and kissed him. Nigel inhaled sharply, clearly surprised, and Brian started to back away. His lips just barely separated from Nigel’s though before a warm hand came to rest on the back of his neck and pulled him back in. A surprised little whine came from deep within his throat as he melted against Nigel’s lips. 

_God_. Kissing Nigel felt like taking that first gulp of air after being underwater for too long, and wasn’t that just par for the fucking course with this man? 

Nigel’s palm flattened against his chest at the same time Brian’s hands found Nigel’s waist. He bunched the expensive fabric in his hands as his fingers trailed up under his waistcoat. They were kissing a little frantically, gripping and pulling at each other. He opened his mouth and sighed as Nigel’s tongue pressed against his. He found himself leaning forward until he was practically in Nigel’s lap. Nigel adjusted his hands so that they were on Brian’s hips, supporting him as he leaned forward and sucked on his lips hungrily. After minutes or hours, Nigel separated their lips, leaving Brian gasping and about to protest when he felt him press an open-mouthed kiss to his neck instead. 

“Oh, God, Nigel, that feels so good,” he moaned. 

__Nigel must have taken the feedback on board because he focused on that spot, biting just hard enough to sting then soothing with his tongue and his lips. He was almost definitely going to have a bruise on that spot tomorrow, and the thought thrilled him._ _

Nigel trailed his mouth back up and across Brian’s jawline. Brian turned his head so that he could chase his lips and brought one of his hands up to tangle it in Nigel’s curls, holding him there. Nigel moaned softly against his lips when he tugged at his hair just a little bit, and the vibrations sent a tingle down his spine. Then Nigel placed his hands on Brian’s shoulders and pulled away. 

Brian opened his eyes, looking at him incredulously. Nigel’s eyes were closed, and he looked like he was concentrating on something. He didn’t take his hands off of Brian though. He was still gripping Brian’s shoulders tightly when he finally opened his eyes. 

“Think we better slow down unless you plan on having sex tonight,” Nigel rushed out. 

Well. Brian hadn’t not been planning on getting him naked a few seconds ago, but now that he was breathing and thinking somewhat clearly, he realized maybe that was a little hasty. He nodded and dropped his hands that were still in Nigel’s hair and on his waist, letting them come to rest on his knees in loose fists instead. 

“Okay,” he agreed. “Yeah, we should, um--” 

Nigel grinned, cutting off his admittedly already derailed train of thought. 

“You’re adorable when you’re freaking out,” Nigel said. 

“I’m not freaking out, I just, uh,” he stuttered, realizing that he was only further proving Nigel’s point. “I’m not like this,” he finally said, settling on what he was feeling. “I don’t just kiss pretty boys I met a few weeks ago and definitely not like _that_ , but you, you’re just.” 

He waved his hand in Nigel’s general direction, hoping he was getting the sentiment across. Nigel was just sitting there grinning like a Cheshire cat while he fumbled over his words. Oh god, had he just called him pretty? 

“Well,” Nigel drawled, “I don’t usually tell pretty boys to stop kissing me, especially if I only met them a few weeks ago.” 

Brian thought about that for a moment, not sure how exactly to process it. Was Nigel telling him he stopped him because he wasn’t like all those other boys whom he wanted to keep kissing or was he somehow thinking along the same lines Brian was? That this was maybe too special to be just another fling? It seemed too bizarre to be the latter. Still though, there was something else. 

“Did, uh, did you feel like we’ve kissed before?” he asked. “Like, I know we haven’t, but something just felt so…” 

“Familiar?” Nigel finished for him. “Yeah, definitely getting some deja vu vibes here.” 

Brian’s hand flew up to his head, and he rubbed at his temple as a sharp pain shot through it. There was a flash then, just a quick bright light, and he was looking at Nigel stretched out across a brick wall at what looked like a university. His head was tilted back in the sun as he withdrew a cigarette from his mouth. Smoke drifted up into the sky, and he turned his head to meet Brian’s eyes. Then the vision disappeared as quickly as it came. He was still in his apartment holding onto his now pounding head, and Nigel was looking at him with concern all over his face. 

“Bri, are you okay?” he asked. 

“Uh,” he stammered. 

Suddenly a light bulb burst and fell to the floor behind them in the kitchen, and they both jumped at the shattering glass. 

“Jesus fuck!” Nigel exclaimed, whipping his head around to look in the direction of the sound. 

“I’ve told the landlord that fixture needed to be replaced,” Brian grumbled. 

He was holding his head in both his hands now, and the pounding was growing significantly worse. He swore he could hear a ringing noise too. 

“I think I’m getting a migraine. That happens sometimes when I drink,” he said. 

“Okay, shit,” Nigel said, looking around the room. He asked, “What helps your migraines?” 

“Dark,” Brian said. “And I should probably lie down.” 

He stood and swayed a little bit, causing Nigel to jump up and catch him at his elbows. 

“Alright, careful now,” Nigel said. 

Nigel guided him back to his room and worried over him as he climbed under the covers of his bed. Remembering his directions, he turned out all the lights after Brian had gotten settled until there was only the light from the living room filtering down the hall. Nigel was a silhouette in the doorway, and he was wringing his hands anxiously. 

“Can you get my migraine medication?” Brian asked. “Medicine cabinet’s in the bathroom. Orange bottle with a blue lid.” 

Nigel disappeared then, and Brian squeezed his eyes shut. He sometimes got those flashes of bright light when a migraine was coming on, and that had to be all it was. That and the alcohol must have caused the weird hallucination. He’d never even seen that place before, and the Nigel in his mind had looked a good five years younger. No way could it be real. It felt like a memory though, and that just wasn’t possible. 

He heard the unmistakable sound of shattering glass coming from the kitchen again as Nigel was clearly trying to pick up the broken lightbulb and dropped it. He sighed. Nigel insisted he wasn’t clumsy, but things had a tendency to break when he was around. 

“Don’t worry, I got it!” he heard Nigel call down the hall. 

A few minutes later, Nigel appeared back at the doorway and came to sit at the edge of Brian’s bed. He handed him two pain killers and a glass of water. 

“Thanks,” Brian mumbled, washing them both down. 

Nigel was watching him carefully, and Brian wondered if he knew about his vision somehow. Maybe he was deciding that Brian really was a weird stranger after all and he had been too quick in befriending him. The thought caused an ache in his chest. He wasn’t sure why, but he didn’t think he could lose Nigel now. Instead of running though, Nigel reached out his hand and pressed it gently against the side of Brian’s head. Brian closed his eyes and leaned into the touch. 

“This is going to sound crazy maybe,” Nigel said quietly, “but I’d kind of like to stay here tonight and make sure you’re okay. I know where you keep the extra blankets, and I’ll stay on the couch in case you need anything, if that’s alright?” 

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Brian agreed. 

He’d never had anyone to take care of him before when he had these episodes, but he wasn’t really in a position to turn down the offer if it was being extended. His head felt like it was going to explode. 

“Okay, well, you know where I’ll be,” Nigel said. 

“Night,” Brian whispered, unable to raise his voice any higher without feeling every word punctuated by tiny hammers in his head. 

“Goodnight,” Nigel replied softly, as he pulled the door closed. 

That little light from the kitchen under his door still felt too bright, and he squeezed his eyes shut. He heard some shuffling as Nigel got himself settled on the couch and then finally the click that shut off the lights. With the apartment in total darkness and the medicine slowly making the pain subside, he fell asleep. 


	3. Chapter 3

_Time stands still and it's only us_  
_What we feel started way before we ever touched_  
_Just imagine only us_  
_Yeah, you found me right before I'd given up_

 

Brian sometimes had weird dreams when he took certain medications, but that night took the cake. None of his dreams made any particular sense. It wasn’t like a coherent thing he could describe, more like flashes. A girl with long brown hair shooting sparks out of her fingertips like sparklers, a man with moths circling his head stepping through a mirror, a blonde girl with glowing blue eyes wearing an angry scowl, and most confusingly, Nigel chasing a giggling young boy around a large configuration of colored tiles in front of a wooden cottage. 

The dreams left him with an eerie feeling. The more he tried to remember them, the harder it got. It was like there was a wall up in his mind or something. In the end, he brushed it off, telling himself that it was the medication and nothing more. What other explanation was there?

He rubbed at his eyes and padded down the hall noisily until he turned the corner and stopped short at the sight of someone on his sofa. He remembered then that Nigel had stayed over. That thought caused a warm feeling to settle in his stomach. He smiled softly at the man wrapped up in one of Brian’s old quilts and went on his way to make coffee. 

He figured they were going to have to talk today about what happened last night. Brian chewed on the inside of his lip as he poured the coffee grounds into the filter and pressed start. He wasn’t sure how to even bring it up to Nigel. The strange and enigmatic man had become arguably his only best friend, and was that something worth risking because they got drunk and horny one night? It didn’t feel like an impulsive drunk mood though, and that was the part that was tripping him up. It felt like something deeper, like it was the natural conclusion to whatever they’d been doing for the past few weeks. The way Nigel touched him felt like they’d been touching each other for a lifetime, which was a bizarre and borderline creepy thought to have about someone you basically just met.

A low groan from behind him interrupted his thoughts. He turned around to face the living room and saw Nigel sitting up. He was looking very confused and bedraggled with his hair sort of going in all directions. He reached up to pat it down and glanced around until his eyes landed on Brian in the kitchen. His expression settled on something closer to recognition then, and he grumbled, “Please tell me some of that coffee is for me.”

“Of course,” Brian said, laughing a bit at the annoyance in Nigel’s tone. He asked, “Not a morning person then?”

He got a deadpan look in response, which he interpreted as a solid no. He heard the coffee pot click behind him and turned around. He reached up and opened his cabinet, pulling out two solid black mugs. They were the same old mugs he’d been gifted as part of a set from his mother when he moved into his first apartment in New York. He hadn’t bothered to replace them even though they had a few chips around the edges after years of use. He filled both of them to the brim and carried them into the living room, where Nigel graciously accepted one and held onto it like a lifeline.

They drank in comfortable silence for a moment, both of them scrolling through their phones while the caffeine did its job of waking them up. Nothing too exciting appeared to be happening in the world according to Brian’s Twitter feed at least, which was regrettably his primary news source most days. He was just about to switch to Facebook when Nigel cleared his throat.

“How’s your head?” he asked.

Brian answered, “Surprisingly all good now. Must have been the alcohol.”

“Hm,” Nigel said in response. Then he said, “I had some really fucking weird dreams last night.”

Brian’s brows furrowed together, and he said, “Huh, I did too actually, but I thought it was just the medicine.”

“I mean, really fucking weird,” Nigel said. “We’re talking fairies and centaurs and I had a pregnant wife?”

Brian snorted out a laugh and said, “Somehow you having a pregnant wife is maybe the weirdest part of that sentence.”

“God, I know,” Nigel shuddered. 

Brian tried to recall his own dream with Nigel and the young boy at the cottage. He’d felt some sort of protectiveness as he watched the child play. It was the easiest moment for him to remember out of all of his bizarre dreams. He just didn’t know what to make of it.

“So, uh, about last night,” Nigel started.

Brian’s head jerked up to look at him. He hadn’t really expected for Nigel to be the one to bring it up.

Nigel continued, “If you were literally any other man, I would have fucked you and been gone by the time you woke up.”

Brian’s eyebrows shot up to his forehead. He let out a breathy laugh and said, “I can’t tell if that was supposed to be a compliment or not.”

“Shut up,” Nigel said, “I’m trying to be emotionally mature here.”

“Okay, carry on,” Brian said with a smirk.

“Okay,” Nigel exhaled. “What I’m trying to say is I don’t understand why, but you’re different. It’s… important to me that I don’t screw this up.”

Brian reached out for his hand and Nigel gave him a tiny little smile as he glanced down at their entwined fingers. He ran his thumb across the back of Nigel’s knuckles, encouraging him to continue.

“I hate the R word, and I don’t have a good track record with commitment,” Nigel said, “but I guess I’m asking if you want to give us a shot and see where this goes?”

He looked so uncertain that it made Brian want to kiss the worry right off his face. So he did. He leaned in and took Nigel’s face in his hands before pressing their lips together in a short kiss. When he pulled away, Nigel was looking at him like there were literal stars in his eyes. He almost felt overwhelmed at the intensity of it. 

“I would love to,” Brian said simply.

Nigel exhaled, clear relief on his face. He wasted pretty much zero time leaning back into Brian’s space and capturing his lips again. Coffee cups and phones were forgotten as they found themselves horizontal with Nigel pressing Brian back into the small uncomfortable sofa. Brian had thought the kissing was good the night before, but nothing compared to feeling the full weight of Nigel’s body on top of him as they fumbled with buttons and grinded against each other. Nigel pulled away from the spot on Brian’s neck he had been working on.

In a breathy voice, he asked, “Just for the record, this does mean that we’re going to have sex now, right?”

“Yes, but only if you stop talking,” Brian replied, just as out of breath himself.

Nigel grinned at him and dragged him back to the bedroom in response.

With that discussion out of the way, sex became a thing they did. A lot. Nigel all but moved in with the amount of nights that went from fucking on any given flat surface to slow morning blowjobs the next day. Brian was, to put it lightly, not complaining. 

They weren’t just having sex every second of the day though. Nigel had made good on his intentions to make their relationship different. He was practically making it a mission to romance Brian in every cliche way possible. His favorite so far had been the time Nigel showed up at the end of his office hours one warm April afternoon with an honest to god picnic basket and a bottle of wine. They’d sat in the sun at Central Park and drank and laughed for hours. As more wine was consumed, they ended up sprawled out across a blanket with their hands intertwined, looking at the clouds overhead.

“Hey look, that one’s you,” Nigel said, pointing the hand Brian was holding to an incredibly undistinguishable blob of a cloud. 

“I think I should be offended,” Brian said.

“No, look, see it’s got your little floppy hair and there’s your goofy smile,” Nigel said in earnest, trying to make Brian see his face in the cloud that looked exactly like a cloud and definitely nothing else.

Brian sat up to lean his weight on his elbow and looked down at him.

“You’re really drunk,” he said, a grin pulling at the corners of his mouth.

“Hm, perhaps,” Nigel agreed, clearly not sorry about it.

Brian leaned down to give him a soft, short kiss and chuckled against his lips when Nigel started to make it more handsy than was strictly appropriate in a public park. He brushed Nigel’s hands away and leaned back onto his elbows on the blanket, laughing the whole time.

“I think we better get you home,” he said, his voice fond.

“I think I’m going to fuck you right here if you don’t,” Nigel agreed, already throwing things in the picnic basket with all the coordination of a tipsy giraffe while Brian threw his head back laughing.

Weeks passed in that fashion, and spring gave way to a hot and balmy New York City summer. Brian was cooped up in the library or his office or his go-to coffee shop with his nose buried in a book for the majority of his free time. Nigel was good about it, giving him space to get his work done without too many distractions. They spent nearly every night together, sometimes cooking at Brian’s apartment and watching Netflix and sometimes going out to some exclusive fancy restaurant that Nigel insisted on taking him to and dining with views of the city skyline. 

Nigel was the kind of person who definitely used his money to enjoy the finer things in life, but he never gave off the air of a snobby trust fund baby like many others Brian had known in the city. He felt painfully out of place in some of the places Nigel took him, but Nigel wanted to make him feel special and he eventually stopped arguing and let him. 

It was an idyllic summer right out of a romance novel, and Brian had genuinely never been happier. One night in July, as they laid in bed trading slow, lazy kisses that weren’t really building up to anything, he had a sudden thought. He tipped his head back so that he could see Nigel’s face. Nigel slowly opened his eyes and looked at him in question. Brian smiled, and his heart took off in his chest.

“I love you,” he said.

Nigel’s mouth dropped open just a little bit as he stared into Brian’s eyes. Brian didn’t waver, just gave him a soft smile as he waited for him to process. After a second, Nigel picked his jaw up off the floor, and his face broke out into a blinding smile that reached all the way to his pretty hazel eyes.

“I love you too,” he said softly.


	4. Chapter 4

_Must be from a different life_  
_Been here before and it just feels right_  
_No, this ain't the first time for you and I, we ain't strangers_  
_Strangers tonight_

 

Realizing he was in love with Nigel had been as easy as remembering to breathe. It wasn’t even a conscious thing. It just was. He’d stopped questioning the strange magnetism that drew them together long ago and had leaned into it instead. If God or the universe or whatever wanted them to be together, who was he to argue? 

The dreams still came sometimes. Weird flashes, mostly focusing on Nigel by this point. He saw Nigel mixing cocktails in an oddly decorated house, Nigel beaming up at him as he placed a crown on his head, Nigel looking like an angel in the fiery orange glow from the torch lights surrounding them right before he kissed him. None of it made any sense at all. He had other, more mundane dreams about Nigel too, of course, so it was easy to write the weird ones off as maybe working too hard on his dissertation and frying his brain. 

Whatever the reason for any of it, they were comfortable and happy. That was all he cared to focus on.

Unfortunately, God or the universe or whatever seemed to have other priorities. 

It was an overcast September afternoon when the air was just beginning to turn crisp enough to need a jacket. Brian had taken the stairs down from his office and was exiting the building when he all but ran into Nigel where he was trying and failing to casually lean against the wall outside. 

“Fancy seeing you here,” Nigel said smoothly.

Brian shook his head at him and laughed. This wasn’t the first time Nigel had shown up unannounced to walk him home, and Brian secretly loved it more than he would admit. He leaned up on his tiptoes to give him a quick kiss when his mind registered footsteps approaching quickly towards them. It was barely just a peck before he stepped back and turned around.

“Well, fuck,” a short woman with dark wavy hair said, her hand on her hip as she stared at them in clear disbelief from a few feet away.

Brian didn’t recognize her, but she was glancing back and forth between the two of them like she definitely knew them. She looked like she couldn’t decide whether she wanted to hug them or punch them, and both options were highly concerning. He turned to look at Nigel and saw confusion clearly written on his face as well. There were three other people with her too, another girl and two guys. All three of them were giving him incredulous looks while the woman who spoke had schooled her look of disbelief into a very knowing smirk. 

She said, “I should have known this is how we’d find them.”

Nigel stepped forward then and wrapped an arm around Brian to pull him back, subtly placing his body between him and the strangers. 

“I’m sorry, do we know you?” Nigel asked.

Nigel sounded calm and maybe even bored to the untrained ear, but Brian could hear the edge of anxiety in his voice. 

The woman just laughed and rolled her eyes, which was rude, and said, “Oh please, calm your tits. No one wants to hurt your little boy toy.” The other woman stifled a laugh behind her hand. The first woman carried on, “We need to talk though. Just come with us, and we’ll explain everything.”

Nigel stepped backwards then, forcing Brian along with him.

“Does that line usually work when you’re trying to kidnap total strangers? Because no offense, but your technique could do with a little more finesse,” he said, joking tone teetering dangerously close to hysteria.

Brian glanced around. They were standing in the middle of a busy campus. It’s not like there wouldn’t be any witnesses if one of these people pulled a gun or something. 

The woman pinched the bridge of her nose between her fingers and groaned. She said, “Jesus Christ on a tricycle, of course you’re going to make this difficult. We can talk first, but we can’t do this out here in front of God and everybody so we need to move.”

“And why would we agree to go anywhere with you?” Nigel asked.

The taller guy who had been quiet so far rolled his eyes and took a step forward then. He said, “Your names are Nigel and Brian, right? Brian, you wrote your undergrad dissertation on Jane Austen. Nigel, you had a dog named Pepper growing up.”

He and Nigel shot each other a look. Okay, that was weird that they’d know any of that about them. Stalkers were a thing though, and it didn’t exactly serve to make Brian want to trust them.

The man continued, “Does anything strange ever happen when you two are together? Things flying at your head? Glass shattering? Headaches? Weird dreams that don’t make sense?”

“Guess we’re doing this here then,” the woman muttered.

Brian thought back to all of the weird instances at the beginning of their relationship. The tea cup he’d broken when they first met. The disaster in the kitchen of the coffee shop. The light bulb breaking at his house, followed by a migraine. Then there were all those dreams. He stepped out of Nigel’s death grip until he was only holding his hand. 

“How do you know about that?” he asked.

“Because it’s a spell, and we were all under it too,” the man answered, gesturing at the other three. “You aren’t who you think you are. This,” he gestured between them, “isn’t your real life. Your names are Quentin and Eliot--”

“Penny, watch out!” one of the girls screamed.

Before any of them had time to register what was happening, the bulb from the lamp post they had been standing under fell and just barely missed Penny’s head as he jumped out of the way. It shattered on the ground between them, drawing the attention of pretty much everyone walking by.

“Jesus Christ,” Nigel muttered.

“See why we can’t do this here?” the smaller woman asked impatiently. “Now let’s go, we need to get somewhere safe, and we’ll explain everything.”

Nigel and Brian looked to each other, a silent conversation passing between them, before Nigel turned back to the strangers.

“Okay, fine, but we’re going back to Brian’s place because no way in hell am I getting in a car with you people,” he said.

“Fine,” the woman said, exasperation filling her voice, “let’s go then. Andale.”

It was a quiet and tense walk for the five blocks it took to get there. The man they’d called Penny asked, “Can’t I just travel us there?”

“Oh yeah, I’m sure that would go over well,” the shorter woman shot back at him.

Brian gripped Nigel’s hand tighter, feeling less and less confident about bringing all of these people back to the place where he lived. He didn’t suppose they had a choice at this point. These people knew things about them, and they knew about the things neither of them could explain. Whatever was going on, it seemed like they had already been pulled right into the middle of it.

They reached his building much quicker than he and Nigel usually did on their leisurely walks home. Brian unlocked the door and led the group upstairs until they reached his door. 

“Nice digs, Coldwater,” the woman said, which made just about as much sense as everything else she’d said so far. 

A stack of books on the table next to her fell, and she yelped as they landed right on her foot.

“Okay, fuck,” she said. “No saying real names again until the spell is lifted because this is one thorough motherfucker.”

Brian tossed his keys on the table and turned around to see Nigel stopped in front of the group with his arms crossed over his torso, blocking them in at the entrance to the apartment.

“Okay, we’re here, now start talking,” he said sharply.

Brian walked over to stand at his side. He figured it was best to present a unified front to the possible stalkers you’d just invited into your home.

The guy who hadn’t spoken yet pushed his way to the front of the group, clearly taking the position of diplomat. He pushed his glasses up where they’d fallen on his nose and clapped his hands together as if he was preparing himself.

“Okay, so this spell you’re under. Think of it as sort of a magical witness protection program,” he said. “Anytime you or anyone else pokes at it, weird shit starts happening. Like that light that fell when Penny said your real names.”

Nigel interjected, “You keep saying our ‘real names’ like my birth certificate doesn’t say Nigel on it.”

“Why are we even bothering to explain any of this?” the taller woman asked. “Let’s just lift the spell so we can go and find Julia already.”

“Hold on, speaking of,” Nigel started, “how did you find us exactly?”

“Well, we were actually looking for Cold--, Brian, over there,” the shorter woman said. “Finding you with him was just a happy coincidence that we are definitely going to be discussing later in full detail,” she finished with a devilish grin on her face.

“Anyway, back to the point,” the man said, “things went south a few months back, and someone placed a protective spell over all of us to keep us out of the way. Kady figured it out and came to find the rest of us. I know none of this makes sense to you right now, but we need both of you back so we can fix what went wrong.”

He was right, none of it did make sense. Still, if what they were saying was true, and everything he thought was true wasn’t real? His life wasn’t as exciting as whoever this Quentin person was by the sounds of it, but he had a happy life. He loved his job and his students and his studies. He loved his little apartment with the cheap Ikea furniture. He loved his favourite coffee shop. He loved Nigel. 

He cleared his throat and said, “Say we believe you. What happens if we let you lift this spell or whatever? We just disappear? Become someone else?”

“Not exactly,” the man said. “You’ll still be you and remember everything that’s happened, but you’ll also know the truth.”

He felt Nigel reach for his hand, and he interlaced their fingers. The gravity of what they were saying was hitting both of them. They may not disappear into thin air, but they were going to lose this. They were going to lose this simple and wonderful life they’d built as Brian and Nigel because it was all going to be an elaborate lie. Maybe it had been all along. The thought made Brian feel sick. It had been real for them. 

The shorter woman took a step forward toward Nigel, and her features took on a much softer tone than they’d had before. She reached out and touched his arm, and he shut his eyes.

“I know you,” he said quietly. “I’ve seen you in so many of my dreams.”

“Well, I would hope so,” she said, a small smile playing on her lips.

She reached up to stroke his cheek and said, “El, I’m so sorry, but we’re going to have to do this.”

He nodded, and she gave him a sad smile. He said, “Uh, we need a minute. Alone. Then we’ll do whatever you say.”

“Of course,” she said. “We’ll be right here.”

Nigel turned on his heels and dragged Brian along with him back to his bedroom. Once the door was shut behind them, he wrapped Brian up in his arms. Brian buried his face in Nigel’s shirt, breathing in his cologne.

“Okay, so, there’s every chance these people are crazy, and we need to call the police,” Nigel said.

Brian laughed into his chest and felt more than heard Nigel chuckle along with him.

“But you don’t think so,” Brian said.

“I don’t know what to think,” Nigel admitted, “but something is telling me to trust them. That woman… I don’t know how, but I know her, Bri. I don’t think she’s lying to us.”

“Okay, say they’re telling the truth and we really are these other people with these other lives. What happens then?” he asked. He was worrying his lip between his teeth. “What if those other people aren’t…”

Nigel took a step back so that he could look into his eyes. He moved his hands from his back to settle one on the side of his neck and the other on his cheek.

“Listen to me, Brian,” he said. “I fucking love you, okay? I don’t care what lifetime or universe or whatever it is. Whoever that other guy is, I promise you that he loves you too, because there’s no way he couldn’t. Not if he’s me.”

Brian felt tears stinging his eyes as he nodded. He said, “Yeah, same. Whoever else I am, there’s no way he knows you and isn’t out of his mind in love with you.”

“So that’s settled then,” Nigel said, “we’re not losing each other, no matter what else may change.”

Brian shot up to press a kiss to his lips, and Nigel lowered the hand on his neck to press it against his back and draw him closer. Brian gripped onto his waist tightly.

“Okay,” Nigel said, pulling away. “I think we have to go and face this.”

“Yeah,” Brian nodded.

They locked their hands together and opened the door. Everyone looked up as they entered the room.

“Okay, we’re ready,” Nigel said. “Do what you have to do.”


	5. Chapter 5

The two women stepped forward and began doing some kind of complicated movement with their hands. Brian was starting to second guess Nigel’s faith in them, if he was being honest, because they frankly looked a little ridiculous. Then he felt it.

He grabbed his head and saw Nigel do the same out of the corner of his eye. It was a sharp pain unlike any he’d ever experienced, and there was that ringing noise he’d heard before. The girls started moving their hands more quickly then as both men dropped to their knees. Then just as quickly as it had started, it was over. And… _oh_.

He looked up slowly. Margo, Kady, Josh, and Penny were staring at him like they were waiting for him to say something. He looked to his side and saw Eliot on the floor in a similar state as him. Their hands were still clasped between them, and that made it all come flooding back for him. Brian, Nigel, his job, his whole life. Except it wasn’t his. He was Quentin Coldwater, and he’d been put under a spell by Dean Fogg right after the McAllister’s had swept in and diverted the flow of magic at Castle Blackspire. After Alice had destroyed the keys and Julia came in and gave up her goddess powers to create more. Holy shit, it was a lot to process. 

Josh had been right though. The memories of the last few months hadn’t gone anywhere. They were just as real as any other memories he had, but now he knew that… well he wasn’t really sure what he knew now.

Margo rushed forward then and practically launched herself at Eliot. He let go of Quentin’s hand to wrap her in a tight hug.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” she mumbled into his neck. 

“You too, Bambi,” he said.

Kady stepped forward then and offered Quentin a hand and pulled him up. 

“You alright, Coldwater?” she asked.

“Uh, yeah, I think so,” he nodded.

He glanced back towards Eliot and Margo for a second then turned back to the rest of them.

“Where’s Julia? And Alice?” he asked.

“We haven’t exactly worked out where Julia is yet,” Penny explained, and Quentin could see that the fact was weighing on him. He continued, “We’re pretty sure Alice is still locked up though after that stunt she pulled in the castle.”

“Yeah, that makes sense,” Quentin said.

He wasn’t really sure how that made him feel, if he was honest. He and Alice had been on rocky ground before she’d betrayed them, and now he wasn’t really sure how he could ever forgive her. Then, of course, there was the Eliot of it all.

Yeah, that one was going to be complicated.

Penny travelled the six of them back to a very swanky looking apartment in downtown Manhattan. Eliot had kept a careful distance from him since they’d remembered, and Quentin was trying not to read too much into it. There was a lot to process, and he probably just needed time. Besides, Margo hadn’t exactly let go of him yet. 

“Where are we?” Quentin asked, looking around as they landed.

“Marina’s apartment,” Kady explained. “She took off as soon as weird shit started happening, so I guess it’s technically ours now.”

Everyone dispersed into different parts of the apartment, apparently having some idea of what their next steps were. Margo promptly grabbed Eliot’s hand and dragged him up the spiral staircase. Quentin, for lack of anything better to do, flopped down on the expensive looking sofa and closed his eyes.

It turned out to be much simpler to find Julia than any of them had anticipated. Later that night, when they’d all been halfway through the pizza they’d ordered, Kady’s phone rang. About an hour later, Julia herself showed up at the door. Turns out she had been enrolled at Brakebills, of all places, and Todd had somehow helped her break through the spell. All things considered, it wasn’t the strangest thing any of them had heard in the last few months. 

They spent the evening mostly catching up. Kady explained the weird comic book she’d found with their fake lives detailed in it. It was bizarre to hear Brian’s whole life spelled out like that. It only went so far as when the spell had been placed of course, so the new memories he’d made weren’t in the book. But still, it felt like a slap in the face knowing that his whole life as Brian really had been a carefully constructed lie.

One perk of the apartment they’d inherited was that Marina had obviously done some sort of magic to make it bigger on the inside, like the Physical Kids Cottage. There were plenty of bedrooms upstairs for all of them, and they all quietly claimed their own when everyone had had enough of the alternate timeline conversations around midnight. Quentin didn’t have any clothes there, having left all of Brian’s things at his apartment and all of his things at the cottage. He stripped down to just his undershirt and boxers and climbed under the covers. 

It had been a long fucking day, to say the least. He’d woken up that morning in bed with his boyfriend Nigel, spent the day researching and writing in his office, and now here he was, Quentin Coldwater, and right back in the middle of the clusterfuck that was his life. In a way, he wished his friends had never shown up and he had gone home that night to have a nice dinner with Nigel, well, Eliot, like he’d planned. They would be curled up on the couch arguing about which movie to watch by now, blissfully unaware of life’s greater problems. He knew it was a selfish thought because there was so much going on in his real life, but his life as Brian had been something he had only ever dreamed of. Brian hadn’t needed magic or medication or a quest to get him through the day. He was just happy with a simple, quiet life. Quentin, on the other hand, had emotional baggage and a broken brain and maybe even a broken heart too. He’d never known how to be happy like that. 

His mind drifted to Eliot, two doors down the hall. He couldn’t even begin to imagine what Eliot was thinking, and he didn’t know because they hadn’t said one word to each other since it had happened. He remembered their last conversation though, as Nigel and Brian.

_“Listen to me, Brian,” he said. “I fucking love you, okay? I don’t care what lifetime or universe or whatever it is. Whoever that other guy is, I promise you that he loves you too, because there’s no way he couldn’t. Not if he’s me.”_

_Brian felt tears stinging his eyes as he nodded. He said, “Yeah, same. Whoever else I am, there’s no way he knows you and isn’t out of his mind in love with you.”_

_“So that’s settled then,” Nigel said, “we’re not losing each other, no matter what else may change.”_

Of course he was in love with Eliot. He hadn’t even made a secret of it, asking him to give them a shot back in the throne room at Castle Whitespire. Whatever Nigel had felt though, that wasn’t Eliot. Eliot had told him as much when he’d turned him down. They really hadn’t had a moment to deal with any of that either before everything had happened in Castle Blackspire. The last thing he remembered was Eliot killing the monster, and Quentin had been furious at him. With the benefit of hindsight, he couldn’t say he was still mad. It had gotten him out of an eternity stuck with a child monster after all. 

A quiet knock on his door startled him out of his thoughts. He looked in the direction of the noise and thought about pretending to be asleep. It could be Julia though, and he’d feel bad ignoring her after everything she’d gone through to help them.

“Come in,” he said.

The door creaked open, and it wasn’t Julia behind it. It was Eliot.

Eliot slipped into the room and softly closed the door behind him. He hovered there for a second, not saying anything. Quentin sighed and scooted over, lifting the covers for him. Eliot relaxed his posture then and accepted his invitation. They settled themselves wordlessly, both of them leaning against the wooden headboard.

“Crazy day, huh?” Eliot finally said. 

Quentin huffed out a laugh and turned his head to look at him.

“You could say that,” he agreed.

They stared at each other for an immeasurable amount of time, their eyes searching. Eliot was so hard to read when he wanted to be, and Quentin longed for the simple knowledge he’d had with Nigel that he had definitely loved and wanted him. He and Eliot never had been simple though. Or predictable. As if by some silent mutual agreement, they both leaned in. 

When their lips touched, Quentin all but whined at the contact. He melted into Eliot, and Eliot reached up to cup his face ever so gently. They were being careful with each other. Despite the months they’d spent together doing exactly this, it felt a little like they were learning each other all over again. When Eliot pulled away, he left his forehead resting against Quentin’s.

“So, I think we should probably talk,” he whispered in the space between them.

“Probably,” Quentin agreed.

They were quiet for a moment, simply holding on to each other in the stillness. Eliot finally sighed and sat back. Quentin watched him carefully. He could tell Eliot was psyching himself up, and he was used to waiting him out until he was ready.

Finally, he said, “Okay, so, I know what I said in the throne room. After the mosaic.”

Quentin’s heart dropped into his stomach. That conversation wasn’t exactly a fun one for him to remember. Eliot had said they wouldn’t choose each other if they had other options. That it wasn’t them. Well, wasn’t this the same sort of thing? Brian and Nigel weren’t them. They were just two people who had met under false pretenses, and of course that wasn’t how Eliot felt with the full knowledge of how things really were. 

“It’s okay,” Quentin said quietly. “You don’t owe me anything because of what we were as Nigel and Brian. It wasn’t us, like you said before.”

Eliot gave him an exasperated look before reaching out and taking his hand. Quentin stared down at Eliot’s hand wrapped around his. What was he doing?

“No, you beautiful idiot, I’m trying to tell you that I was full of shit in the throne room that day,” Eliot said. “I was afraid, and when I’m afraid, I run away.”

“Eliot,” Quentin said, his name coming out like a prayer.

“No, let me finish,” Eliot said. “When the universe gives you two different lifetimes and you fall in love with the same person in both of them, I think you kind of have to start taking that proof of concept seriously.”

Quentin smiled at Eliot using his own words from that first conversation. He had a point though.

“So, what are you suggesting then?” Quentin asked.

Eliot smiled at him and brought his hand up to press a soft kiss against his knuckles. Quentin’s heart stuttered in his chest.

“I love you, Q,” he said. “I think I probably do in every lifetime.”

Quentin let out a little surprised laugh, and he felt his eyes growing wet. Eliot gave him a sweet smile in response.

He continued, “I’m suggesting we give us a shot here, in the one that counts. If you’ll still have me, that is.”

Quentin smiled and reached out to touch Eliot’s face. He rubbed his thumb across his jaw, letting himself feel that this was real. God, he loved this man. Every possible iteration of him.

“I would love to,” he said.

 

_I came here looking for another excuse_  
_To run away from something beautiful_  
_It's like it's driving me closer to you_  
_Every step back pulls me right back to you_

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on tumblr at folie-a-hayley! Thanks for reading! Leave me a comment if you want because validation is my life force. <3


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